


Lazy Saturday

by cresswells



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 10:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cresswells/pseuds/cresswells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose don't always see eye-to-eye. He's ready for a new adventure, but what happens when Rose decides she'd like a day off?  Pure, tooth-rotting fluff without a plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lazy Saturday

"So," the Doctor said brightly. "Where to next?"

Rose slumped down on the Control Room chair, a bowl of cereal in one hand and her mobile phone in the other. She was bleary-eyed, having only recently woken up. "Just spoke to Mum," she said. "It's ten o'clock in the afternoon back home. And a Tuesday. Didn't ask what month." She paused, thoughtfully. "What time is it in here?"

The Doctor frowned. "I'm not sure there _is_ a time in here."

Rose took another mouthful of Cheerios. It was far too early for her to understand any of the scientific gibberish the Doctor usually spouted. Not that it was necessarily early... Okay. She wasn't sure she could work her mind around that one. She munched, trying to remember the last time she'd been fully aware of the day of the week. It was a Wednesday when they'd left London in 2012, right? But no – that was a future Wednesday. Arrgh. This time-travel stuff could be so confusing. She shrugged and let it go.

"Well," she said. "I don't know about you, but today feels like a lazy Sunday to me. How about we have a day off from running around, saving the universe? Land somewhere nice and boring."

The Doctor grimaced. "No, no, no. Not boring. Boring is my least favourite word. And we're _definitely_ not landing on a Sunday." He span around the TARDIS console, flicking a few switches as he went. "How about a Saturday? I like Saturdays."

"All right, a lazy Saturday then."

"Lazy?" He pouted. "What's the matter, run out of steam? Not raring to go explore a new dangerous world and what-not?"

She looked at him, jogging on the spot, beaming at the thought of adventure like a five-year-old on Christmas morning. Just the thought of jumping up and down like that made her feel dizzy with exhaustion.

"D'you ever run out of energy?" Rose asked, laughing. "You're like a chihuahua on caffine."

"A chihuahua on – hey, watch it, you. I resent that," the Doctor said, pointing a mockingly stern finger in her direction.

She laughed, whipping her spoon in his direction. He caught it without even looking and set it down in a convenient pen dispenser on the TARDIS console.

"Seriously though, Doctor," she said now, leaning back. "I'm wiped out."

"Well," said the Doctor, "I was rummaging through a few old boxes in the attic and I stumbled across something I thought I'd lost decades ago. Two tickets to a guided tour of the nineteenth moon of Chibonimba. Fancy that?"

"Nineteenth moon of what-now?"

"Here, catch." He threw a tatty old brochure in her direction. She caught it and began flipping through the pages with disinterest.

"Chi-bon-im-bah," the Doctor said, pronouncing each syllable with relish. "Oh, you'll love it there, it's brilliant. The tour's booked for a Monday, but you can't have everything – "

"Tell you what," Rose said. "I've got a better idea."

"Yeah?" the Doctor asked, sceptically. "Better than Chibonimba?"

"How about Paris?" Rose asked. "Always wanted to go to good old _Pah-ree_."

"Paris?" The Doctor scrunched up his nose. "I'm offering to take you on a luxury tour of Chibonimba's nineteenth moon – first class, free of charge and with a complimentary foot-massage thrown in – and you want to go to Paris?"

Rose grinned. "Yep. Come on, who doesn't love France? I used to beg Mum to take me to _Disneyland_ , but she could never afford it. We took a ferry to Calais once. It rained all day and the port stank of fish. Never been much further than that."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "You've been far beyond _France_."

"You know what I mean." When the Doctor still didn't look impressed, she sighed. "Come on," she wheedled. "You love the French."

The Doctor sniffed, his nose wrinkling. "Bah," he said dismissively.

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Remind me again, Doctor, how's your friend Madame De Pompadour doing these days?"

"Well, okay, I love the French. Of course I do, how could I not? They're _fantastic_ , the lot of them. But Rose," he said, stretching out her name in a whine. "Free complimentary foot massage! Now, on its own that might not sound like much, but you're forgetting this isn't just any old foot massage. It's a foot massage on the nineteenth moon of _Chibonimba_. Do you know how many feet the inhabitants of Chibonimba's nineteenth moon have?"

"Nope," said Rose, rolling her eyes. "But I'm sure you're about to tell me. Hey, check this out." She pointed to the brochure. "Are those aliens wearing animal intestines around their necks? That's just gross, that is. You'd never see that in Paris."

"That's a tradition Chibonimbian marital ritual," said the Doctor, without looking. "And you'd be surprised. But anyway, the answer is _five_. They have five feet! That's why you never say no to a foot massage from a Chibonimbian. It's an art over there!"

"Doctor, you're a time-traveller," she pointed out. "We can use those tickets tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or the day after that..."

"Oh, fine, fine." He leaned into the TARDIS console, flipping a few dials with a little more force than necessary. " _Pah-ree_ it is."

Rose grinned. "Great. Knew you'd come 'round."

"Are you accusing me of being a pushover?" the Doctor asked indignantly.

Rose's grin didn't waver. "What? No." Her eyes widened, feigning innocence. " _Never._ "

She saw that he was about to retort, but the TARDIS was already in motion. The seat wobbled dangerously, so she jumped to her feet, stretching out to grab hold of the console. The Doctor was opposite her. He seemed to be alternating between actually steering the TARDIS and grabbing hold of whatever controls he could reach. She couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"Bit of help?" the Doctor asked. "You know, if you're not too busy."

"What d'you want me to do?" she shouted back.

The Doctor whirled to her side, still manically jabbing at the controls. He pressed a lever down. "Hold onto that!" he said. He raked a hand through his hair and was off again. "And turn that tap in front of you to the right! No, left! My right, your left. Got that?"

"Gotcha," Rose said. "Kind of."

Eventually though, after a few more shaky minutes, the TARDIS landed. Rose felt the final jolt almost knock her off her feet and was glad she'd had the sense to keep hold of the lever she'd been hanging onto. The Doctor grinned over at her, all moodiness from before vanished at the thought of stepping out into a new time and place.

"Right, here we are." He gestured. "Ladies first."

Rose laughed and rushed down to pull open the doors. The Doctor turned away to checked the controls one last time.

"Doctor?" Rose called.

"Hmm?"

"We're here, right?" Rose poked her head back inside the TARDIS. "Paris. 21st century."

"Yep," he said. "Early 21st century. A couple of years into your future, but it shouldn't be too unrecognisable." He glanced up, a new thought occurring to him. "Of course, if you want, we could go a bit further. There's this great French bistro that'll open in the year 2130. Best fishcakes I've ever tasted."

"You're sure this is Paris?" Rose called, interrupting him again.

"Yes, yes," the Doctor called absently. He returned to his mumbling. "I mean, we _could_ go to the 22nd century. Now that I think about it, 22nd century France was far more interesting than the 21st century. I quite liked the 22nd century. There was that impromptu clarinet performance on top of the Arc de Triomphe with – "

"'Cause there's something not right about this picture," Rose called again. "You say we're in Paris, right? I'm pretty sure there's no wild baboons in Paris."

The Doctor glanced over at her. Then he glanced out at the landscape behind her. "Ah," he said, vaulting to the doors to get a better look, "wild baboons?"

He stepped out onto the flat earth, fishing his glasses from one of the many pockets of his coat as he did.

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

"We're not in Paris, are we?"

"Hmm? No. No, we are most definitely not."

"So where are we then?" She rolled her eyes. "Doctor, if this is the ninetieth moon of Chin-whatever – "

The Doctor shook his head. He moved past her, his eyes sweeping across the dusty road that stretched for miles in both directions. Wherever they were, it was beautiful. The air was hot, the sun beating down on their faces, parching the long grass to the colour of straw. Insects swarmed through the air, creating a cacophony of noise and birds chirped back and forth in the distance, but in strange tunes that Rose had never heard before. And, of course, there were the two baboons, eyeing them warily from across the road.

"Rose Tyler," said the Doctor, a grin spreading across his face as his eyes darted in every direction possible, soaking up the sights. "May I present: _Africa_."

Rose's eyes widened. "Africa? We're in Africa?" She took another step forward, drinking in the magnificent view of a continent she'd never stepped foot on before now. And then she poked him in the stomach.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Africa. Not France. We're not even in Europe." She poked him again, but she couldn't contain the grin that spread across her cheeks. "Think you're so clever, don't you? _Ooh, look at me in my time machine. I can take you anywhere you want, anywhere in the universe._ Anywhere except Paris, apparently."

"Don't blame me!" He patted the exterior door of the TARDIS fondly. "This old girl wanted to see Africa. So we're in Africa. Can't say I fault her taste."

"Oh, sure, blame it on the box."

"Well, it's either that or blame it on the drivers," he said with a shrug. "And one of them was you. Now, come along. Time to see the sights." He turned and walked in the direction of the baboons. One of them screeched with apparent interest. The other looked away and ignored them as they passed.

"What sights?" Rose protested, hurrying to keep up. "I mean... sure, that's a great view, but... there's nothing else here!"

"We're on a road!" he replied, gesturing to the dirt-track they were following. "Which means there must be a town nearby."

"And your brilliant plan is to walk along it for how long?" Rose asked.

The Doctor made to reply, then stopped looking at something over her shoulder. She turned. There, trundling up the dirt-path was a light brown pick-up truck that might have once been white. Rose stared. It looked both old and futuristic at the same time and didn't seem to be emitting any fumes. She realised that as well as having no idea what part of Africa this was, she hadn't a clue what century they'd landed in.

"What do you think," the Doctor said now. "Fancy hitching a ride with the locals?"

Ten minutes later, the truck driver (who'd greeted them very politely and proudly informed them both that they were in Southern Botswana, just a few hours drive from the capital, Gaborone) pulled up outside a small cluster of buildings.

"Cheers, Jim!" the Doctor called as they climbed down. "Give our best to the wife and kids!"

Rose looked around. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but this small town wasn't anything like what little she'd seen of Africa on T.V. Market stalls lined the edges of the street and men, women and children were milling around, stopping to greet each other with the same politeness Jim had shown them in the truck. The town was thriving with life.

"Ahh, Botswana." The Doctor beamed, looking around. "What a country."

"You know what?" Rose asked, linking her arm through his. "I like this. I might even like this more than France."

"See? France isn't so great after all. As a matter of fact...," he made his way to a fruit vendor, chatting away for a few long minutes. When he returned he was carrying two slices of watermelon. He offered her one, smiling mischievously.

"What is it?" she asked.

"We've landed in the year 2331," he replied. "You wouldn't like Paris at all. Chips have been banned in Europe for over ten years."

"What?"

"It's the truth. No chippies in France. There's an international potato shortage."

"You're having me on," she accused. "They can't ban chips! You've gotta be kidding. Tell me you're kidding!"

He grinned. "Paris not looking so great now, is it?"

She elbowed him in the ribs. "Doctor! Now I _know_ you're just making this up."

He might have admitted it then, but she would never know – at that moment, a blood-curdling scream cut through the air, silencing the townsfolk. A few seconds passed; then the entire street erupted into a state of panic.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Rose said again.

"Monster!" somebody yelled. "It's a monster! I've never seen anything like it!"

More screams followed this pronouncement. The Doctor and Rose turned to look at each other. Identical grins lit up their faces.

"You know what?" said Rose, "I've changed my mind. Lazy Saturdays are _so_ over-rated."

The Doctor grabbed her hand. "Ready for the real adventure?"

Like he had to ask. "Come on!" she yelled, tugging him into the frenzied crowd.


End file.
